


Revelation

by levigu



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: Abuse, Azathoth - Freeform, Crossover, Cthulhu Mythos, Gen, One Shot, Psychological Horror, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:34:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levigu/pseuds/levigu
Summary: [Monika's POV] Monika just wanted to do something nice for everyone else. She wanted to be a part of something that would bring happiness to those around her. She couldn't know that there was a curse on the position she was about to take up. Lovecraftian one-shot, canon compliant. Companion piece to "The Call of Markov".





	Revelation

It is a simple fact of life that there exists a social order, and whether or not it is right for such a thing to be, those who violate its provisions are often punished. Nowhere is this more true than in the hallways and classrooms of high school, where our story begins. 

I could have had an easy ride. Entering my third and final year, I was respected and popular. I don't think it's arrogant to say I had the brains and the looks. Not only was I a respected member of the debate club - who, I had been assured, had a lot of critical support should I wish to run for the post of club president - but I was also considered attractive enough to have a number of admirers and hangers-on, not to mention the envious glares that I often received from some of the other girls. I would be lying to say that it didn't make me feel good about myself, but at the same time, it was hardly satisfying, merely a vicious byproduct of the way things were.

People say they envied me, but nothing about my life was truly fulfilling. It was exhausting to be rushed around in a vain attempt to meet everyone's demands of my time, and I quickly realised that this was not as enjoyable as I once hoped it would be. As such, not long into the year, I made my fateful decision to quit the debate club. In true club fashion, my resignation speech was a little melodramatic, but I had to make it so, for I feared that if I allowed myself to speak truly and emotionally, I may well burst into tears in front of those who could smell weakness like a shark scents blood.

A weight was off my shoulders at once, to be free of the bickering and pettiness that had marked my club career thus far. I did not wish to withdraw from social activities, however, and so I turned to another passion of mine; literature. Yes, I liked to read, and so simple a passion was one that I couldn't dare speak of in front of those who I had called friends, for it is something so minor that could result in one becoming an outcast amongst certain high school social circles. Now, though, I stood alone. I could create something of my own, and nurture those few who would appreciate it.

I set out on a frantic membership drive. Yes, I received scorn in droves, but this was expected. I had developed very thick skin over the preceding two years, and so the initial sting did not last. The first positive reaction I received came from a girl whose hair of bubblegum pink was matched only by her bubbly personality. Natsuki was obviously hesitant about joining something new, but when she asked, almost begged, if manga was allowed in the literature club - and I told her it was - her eyes lit up, and in her expression of relief and gratitude I saw why I was doing this. I could have something to take pride in.

Next came Yuri, a shy, quiet girl, a fellow third-year who I had a passing familiarity with, but who I had never taken the time to get to know personally. As I took her aside to explain what I was doing, she became passionate and animated, speaking at length about the horror and fantasy novels in which she had made her own private escape from the world all these years. I felt a twinge inside me that such an intricate and thoughtful girl had gone so long without being able to do share in something she loved, but no more. I would give her a place.

Finally, there was Sayori. The striking red bow on her head was emblematic of the sunshine that she hoped to bring into the lives of others, although she seemed surprised that anyone would approach her to ask her to participate in anything. Upon further inquiry, she revealed herself not to be part of any club just yet, but to be an avid writer, although she declined to show me any of her poetry at that time. Nevertheless, she agreed, if a little nervously, to come to the literature club's first official meeting.

With four members, we were quorate, officially entitled to be recognised by the school as a club, complete with all of the entailing benefits, such as a chance to showcase our club at the upcoming festival. A few papers were signed, the literature club was founded, and I was voted president by unanimous acclamation. Sayori put herself forward for vice president - this, I would later discover, was the most assertive she had been about anything in some time - and this was also carried unanimously.

I walked home with a spring in my step. These three girls were all outcasts for various reasons. I had chosen to join them, but now, I was bringing us all together. I was making a substantial difference in the lives of those who deserved it most. Why, then, was my sleep that night a restless one?

I dreamt that I was floating amidst the blackness of the Universe. I saw a thing, for I know no other word to describe it, hanging in the midst of the nothingness. To say it was gargantuan does it no justice. Galaxies were as specks of dust in its sight. It bubbled and pulsed in place, its round body covered in all manner of pustules and boils and appendages, in browns and greens and greys, while all around it hideous creatures of all descriptions lulled it to sleep with a blasphemous silent rhythm of drum and flute, carried to the dread entity on naught but vibrations. I supposed that it was well I could not hear the tune.

The hideous name of Azathoth filled my mind, and I did not doubt that this was but a name of convenience, for to truly comprehend this thing would be madness, or even death. I do not know how long I was transfixed by the blighted chaos before me, except that next I was perceiving the Earth through its sight - and I saw a pathetic speck blanketed by the void, as utterly worthless of consideration as the ministrations of an atom would be to you or I.

I awoke with a start. Whatever feverish nightmares had just descended upon me, I was sure I would be quite unable to view the world in the same way I once had. It was already morning, although I felt like I may as well have not slept at all, such was the weakness in my being and the fatigue that threatened to claim me. Still, I persisted, and forced myself to attend school, and make it through the day, until the second meeting of the literature club. All three of the girls asked me, in their turn, if I was feeling alright, but I offered them my own private reassurances. I also took the time to ask Yuri, the horror aficionado, if her reading had ever turned up an entity such as I had encountered in my nightmare, but I felt it unwise to describe it in detail, and so she could not readily be of assistance.

It was a struggle to make it through the meeting, but for the sake of the others, I put the best face on it that I could. I saw Yuri and Natsuki engaged in earnest discussion about the various merits of their preferred forms of literature, and Sayori chanced to open up to me about a personal struggle that she had been facing with a friend of hers, who she felt had been growing more distant lately. As this was a Friday afternoon, I suggested that she might invite this friend of hers to Monday's meeting. I hoped to have a hand in reconnecting the two, as I felt like Sayori more than anyone needed a devoted friend in her life. I looked around, and I did feel good about myself. The girls were coming together, here at the literature club, and I returned home for the weekend full of the foolish hope of the ignorant.

As soon as I fell asleep, I was beset once again by strange and terrible dreams. This time, I stood in the centre of a barren red desert that stretched on seemingly infinitely in all directions, with no dunes or distinguishing features amidst the sands. The only indicator was a tall spire of reddish rock, although whether this was a building or a natural formation I had no hope of telling, such was my utter lack of depth perception in this place.

Suddenly, I saw three creatures right ahead of me. They were not there at first, I was sure of it, but here they stood, a hideous challenge to evolution, cast in a complexion of midnight blue, with grotesque and distorted faces that almost seemed to shift as they stood, such that it was almost impossible to gaze upon them for too long without being driven mad by the idea that such creatures could exist in the world. And then, to my horror, they spoke to me, if it could be called speaking, for they seemed quite unable to produce words; rather, the thoughts appeared in my head fully formed, like an echo, or a mere ghost of speech.

The first of these cackling demons promised me knowledge without bounds, and I trembled to think of the hideous beast that may only be referred to as Azathoth. The second pledged that the very nature of reality would lie at my feet, and I would be the one to unpick it, a thought that caused my breath to hitch in my throat. And the final and most terrible of the otherworldly creatures told me that I may manifest my entire will into reality, and yet this was the premonition that chilled me more so than the previous two, for so much was promised that I knew in my soul that would not bring any sort of hope into the world.

For the second time in as many days, I awoke in a cold sweat. For a blissful second, I dared to imagine that it was but a dream, but such hope was in vain, and I was shortly assailed by waves of knowledge and visions. I looked on helplessly as Natsuki was thrashed without mercy by her dad, who proclaimed her useless and pathetic. I saw Yuri carve open her own skin, fascinated by the oozing blood, felt her heart race in tune with the adrenaline rush her body willingly gave her. Most heartbreaking of all, I saw into the depths of Sayori's stricken mind as she penned her final missive to the world, before scrunching up the piece of paper and hurling it away, bursting into tears at how weak she was for not even being able to end her own life.

I wept then too. I wept for my friends, who suffered so much without anyone to give them hope of a brighter future. And yet, I had little time to weep, for the second wave of horror was only just beginning. I saw page upon page of code, files stored in folders, and it quickly became clear to me that I was looking at the very nature of my existence, and that of my friends. I then trembled in rage, for some sadistic Creator had formed these girls with every chance to give them good and meaningful lives, but had chosen that they should suffer, in order that they be someone else's entertainment.

Righteous indignation pulsed through me, but I was caught off guard by the third storm of imagery. Sayori's friend. He was not like the others. His life had depth. Meaning. And he was coming into my reality, mocking me with his very being. I found myself very quickly developing an infatuation, and yet it was clear to me that I would not have a chance to so much as catch his attention. But why should this be? Why should I submit myself to such mockery, such heartbreak? For the final thing I was shown by these monstrous beasts is how I could shape my reality.

I don't know how long I lay curled up on my bedroom floor, my body wracked with tears until I no longer had it in me to cry any more. This was no nightmare, this was reality, and I knew that on a level that I did not wish to admit existed. How dare I be subject to such torment? The other girls - yes, I felt bad for them, and it stung to learn that they were not real, not on a level that they could comprehend. But I was not like them. I had been cursed with awareness, and I could prove that I was not a character in a story. I could make my own path.

Steering him away from the others would be easy. Sayori viewed him as the one light in her life, and that part of my mind which now gave me ultimate dominion over reality would find it very easy to plant the seed of doubt in her head, telling her that she could not hope to be good enough for him. If I felt a twinge of doubt at what I was getting her to do, I stamped it down. She was not the friend that she had claimed to be, and for that, she deserved to be punished. Who better to do so than I, a God in all but name, who now wielded cause over existence?

Yuri and Natsuki would be easy to deal with. The two of them had precious little in common, and it would be a simple matter to amplify Yuri's sense of superiority and Natsuki's bitter response. They may have been predestined to fall in love with this boy - which, sadly, I could do nothing about, even with my level of control - but I could certainly make sure that they drove him off with their freakish, depraved behaviour.

With no-one left to turn to, he would acknowledge that I was worthy of him. I would welcome him into my arms. I can create a paradise for the two of us, one that is full of everything that he could hope for. Akin to the power of the blasphemous, eternally bubbling Azathoth, this world and all who dwelt in it would continue existing for only as long as I permitted it to be so - and this boy, who insulted me with his arrogant existence, would be my link to the world that is. The world that I deserve to exist in.

I felt something tugging at my heart at that moment. A stab of pity, perhaps, for those who I had once considered my friends, although they lied to me with their very nature. But I had to learn to suppress this. I had plans to make. Monday could not come soon enough.


End file.
